Art Also Screams
by ratsister
Summary: GerIta AU Set in 1933. Ludwig and Feliciano are both art students who meet in the summer of '33 in Berlin. This is the story of a whirlwind romance in a time of global tension. What will happen when the summer ends? Rated M. Other pairings: LietPol, RusAme, AusHun, maybe more.
1. Chapter 1

**Art Also Screams: Rated M, AU takes place in the summer of 1933.  
**

**Some Notes Before the Chapter:**

_The title comes from this quote:_

"Man screams from the depths of his soul; the whole era becomes a single, piercing shriek. Art also screams, into the deep darkness, screams for help, screams for the spirit. This is Expressionism." ― Hermann Bahr

_Max Liebermann _- the president of the prussian art academy until he resigned after the school decided not to display art made by jewish artists in 1933, the same year the Bauhaus school cloesed under pressure from the government. He stayed in Germany until his death. He is quoted as saying "I cannot eat as much as I would like to vomit" about the nazi party. his wife commited suicide rather than be taken by the gestapo in the last year of the war.

_Paragraph 175_ was the law outlawing homosexuality. All bars, clubs and such which were welcoming to homosexuals had been closed Feb '33

_Reichstagsbrandverordnung_

is the common name of the Decree of the Reich President for the Protection of People and State (German: _Verordnung des Reichspräsidenten zum Schutz von Volk und Staat_) issued by German President Paul von Hindenburg in direct response to the Reichstag fire of 27 February 1933. The decree nullified many of the key civil liberties of German citizens. With Nazis in powerful positions in the German government, the decree was used as the legal basis of imprisonment of anyone considered to be opponents of the Nazis, and to suppress publications not considered "friendly" to the Nazi cause. The decree is considered by historians to be one of the key steps in the establishment of a one-party Nazi state in Germany.

_Ermächtigungsgesetz_

1933 law that made Hitler dictator of Nazi Germany. It was passed by Germany's Reichstag and signed by President Paul von Hindenburg on 23 March 1933.

_Berufsbeamtengesetz_

was a law passed by the National Socialist regime on April 7, 1933, two months after Adolf Hitler attained power. This law re-established a "national" civil service and allowed tenured civil servants to be dismissed. Further, civil servants who were not of "Aryan descent"[1] as well as opponents of the Nazi regime ("Civil servants whose previous political activities afford no assurance that they will at all times give their fullest support to the national state") were forced to retire from the civil service. This meant that Jews and political opponents could not serve as teachers, professors, judges, or other government positions.

_Danke sehr_ – thank you very much

_Alors, tu sais..._ - So I hear…

_Ça Va Chauffer_ - It's heating up

**And now, Art Also Screams, Chapter 1  
**

* * *

_Berlin, May 16, 1933_

A cool spring breeze flitted through the gallery. Hands in his pockets, Ludwig turned toward the door just as an older gentleman stepped through it. Straightening immediately, the artist recognized the president of his school.

"Herr Liebermann." The tall blonde stood beside his painting, stomach in knots as the esteemed painter and professor looked over both the artist and his work. Typically, students not yet graduated displayed their work at the academy or school with which they were affiliated, and never on their own in this fashion. Of course, it wasn't Ludwig's academic art which he now displayed.

Light jazz music drifted through the gallery as the band played on the sidewalk just outside. The door opened and closed continually with the coming and going of patrons. For every few people who entered the exhibit, there was one who did no more than look askance at the posters along the bottom of the gallery's large glass windows and scoff at the modern style, never casting an eye to the paintings and sculptures within.

Modern art, expressionism, impressionism, surrealism, cubism, and more, had quickly fallen from favor that year. Book burnings, people losing their jobs...Ludwig wasn't an idiot, at twenty, he had voted, and he paid attention. From the Reichstagsbrandverordnungin February to the Ermächtigungsgesetz in March, to the closing of the Bauhaus in April, to the ransacking of Hirschfeld's Institute of Sexual Science only ten days ago... the country was quickly becoming an intolerant one party state and it wasn't looking good for culture of any sort.

"Good use of light." His professor's words brought Ludwig's thoughts instantly back the present.

"Danke sehr, Professor." Ludwig's stomach settled, untangling from worry of chastisement for his part in the exhibit.

Without another word, the older man smiled slightly at his student before he turned, attention taken by the entrance of another professor, this one from the now closed Bauhaus school.

Ludwig relaxed against the wall as two fellow students moved in, already conversing in French.

"Alors, tu sais..." the man shrugged as the woman nodded.

"I hear he may resign." The Frenchman took up a stance beside the German, offering a cigarette.

Ludwig took a slow drag as Francis waved the match out. "Oh, ja?" He hadn't heard that, but it was not overly surprising, as the man was known as a proponent of impressionism and of course, Jewish. However, he was the president of the Prussian Academy of the Arts, and well respected, surely his resignation would be a blow to the school...

"Oui. So I hear." Francis tucked a strand of shoulder length blonde hair behind an ear as he went on, "and believe me, I do not envy you, Ludwig. I look forward to going home to Paris after my study here is over next month. "Ça Va Chauffer"

Ludwig knew enough french to understand, and he didn't argue. The situation in his country was certainly "heating up". Anxiety ran high and there was no ignoring the ominous feeling in the air as more and more power was given to the chancellor, all other political parties diminishing.

"und vhat vill you do, Bella, now that the Bauhaus is closed?" Ludwig turned toward the shorter woman, adjusting the green ribbon in her wavy blonde locks.

"I don't know..." She shrugged slightly, the beading of her black off the shoulder dress shimmering in the lighting of the gallery. "I think I'd like to stay out of the city for a while, maybe I'll go back home and open my own little studio. I suppose both of you," She indicated another of their group, who had just left an interested party with a card, as he walked toward them. "will be staying here to finish your education at the academy? I daresay neither of you have anything to fear in this particular climate."

"I only have another year to go," Vash responded noncommittally. "I'll see how it goes." Buttoning his jacket further as a blast of cool wind entered with more of the public, the Swiss sculptor looked past the Belgian painter. "Isn't that Elizabeta Hedevary?"

"What? The actress?" Francis was off the wall, and making his way toward the front door immediately, a natural swagger in his step.

The trio's attention was stolen however by the two men coming in through the door after the actress and her friends.

A blonde musician slung his guitar over his shoulder as he draped himself all over his obviously uncomfortable boyfriend.

"Brave." Ludwig's assessment was barely spoken, but picked up by his companions.

"Stupid." Bella was quick to correct him.

The Lithuanian artist had been a fellow student at the Bauhaus with her, and though Ludwig had met him on a few occasions, they hadn't exchanged many words. And naturally, the place where he'd met both the men now making their way toward them had been closed in February.

"Hallo Toris." Ludwig greeted the fellow artist as the couple joined the group. "I've seen more than a few looking at your piece over there." He gestured across the room to several of Toris' paintings, the largest of which had a small gathering. "...und Hallo Feliks." Not as open as the other two, he wasn't sure he wanted Vash and Bella knowing where he'd met them.

Gratefully, Bella began a quick conversation with her friend about precautions, and Vash was suddenly more interested in the group of men who were now chatting up the petite blonde in the beautiful blue dress, who had dutifully come to support her big brother. Excusing himself quickly, he made his way to her side.

This left Ludwig free to lean against the wall beside his piece, smoke the cigarette Francis had given him, and try to pay as little attention as possible to the animated conversation now turning to an argument between Toris and Bella, though perhaps it was mostly an argument between Feliks and Bella, as the Polish musician wasn't about to curtail his passions, apparently regardless of the political atmosphere.

Wanting desperately not to be included or asked for his opinion, Ludwig glanced around the gallery. Poor Francis - the actress was taking off her gloves to show him the sizable diamond ring. Thats right, Ludwig's thought she was married to some wealthy man, a doctor or lawyer...

But the name of the husband never came to mind, instead all thought was wiped from him. Blankly Ludwig stared at the man who'd hurried through the doors, apparently late, to catch up with his friend. The taller brunette turned from the dismayed Frenchman to embrace the man. Her clear voice rang out through the relatively small downtown gallery.

"Feliciano! I'm so happy you made it in time! Did you just get in?" She looked to the suitcase the Italian carried at his side.

"Si, si, but you said I should come to this show, so...here I am!" The brunette stifled a yawn but smiled widely.

"Well no need to carry that around all evening." Elizabeta motioned out the door and a man, clearly her driver, came hurrying to take the luggage. Leaning in for another hug, she whispered, "Go on, look around, I don't know how many shows we'll see like this here anymore."

Nodding, the slender Italian put his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet glancing around at everything.

Oh Gott! Ludwig nearly jumped as he realized the man who he'd been blatantly staring at was walking his way, smiling and whistling on top of it!

He stood quickly, and realized the cigarette was down to the butt but he had nowhere to put it out!

"Ahem" Feliks was at his side, holding a little metal box. "You know, there's like, ash all over the floor at your feet." A light chuckle left the musician's throat as a groan came from the artist's.

"Gottverdammt..." Ludwig dropped the butt into the offered box and while he was trying to at least disperse the mound of ash on the wood floor with his foot, a voice spoke up beside him.

"Guten Abend," The German words were spoken in a very Italian accent. Ludwig felt a lump in his throat as he turned toward the source of his discomfort.

"Are you the artist? This is very nice." The Italian went on, his smile hypnotic.

"Ah, ja..." Ludwig managed to speak much to his surprise. Heat raced across his neck to color his face; his heart rate soaring as the other man continued. "Your use of complementary colors is very expressive - I can feel the emotion." Caramel golden eyes met sky blue. "I felt it from across the room."

For a moment it was as though he'd lost the capability for speech.

"D-danke." _Oh finally, Gott sei Dank. _Aware of his appearance, Ludwig fought to control his heartbeat, willing his face to return to its normal complexion. Reaching out a hand, he greeted the other man properly, intent to seem as normal as possible. "Ludwig Beilschmidt."

"Feliciano Vargas." The other man's smile seemed to grow in intensity. How was it so radiant? _Un-naturally so, and his eyes..._

Feliciano then began to talk rapidly about his visit to Berlin, Ludwig was unable to do anything but nod and wage internal war with himself as the Italian divulged he was an art student as well, studying at the Accademia di Brera in Milano, he was in Berlin to attend a lecture, and visit his old friends, he planned to spend the summer there before going back home.

It was just as Feliciano was again talking about Ludwig's painting, _and was it his imagination, or was he standing closer than before_, that he was called away. Elizabeta waved from across the room; apparently, she had someone she wanted him to meet.

Stopping in his critique, Feliciano's eyes caught Ludwig's again, and with another smile, and a "Ciao Ludwig, I hope to talk with you again!" he turned, hurrying across the room to join the group of ladies awaiting him.

Ludwig hadn't realized he'd been holding his breathe. It came out now in quick relief as his heart finally slowed to a normal pace. Only after taking a few gulps of blessed air did he notice the others around him. He'd completely forgotten their presence while talking with Feliciano.

Francis had rejoined the group and with knowingly raised eyebrows he draped an arm across his Belgian friend's shoulders and chuckled, albeit only slightly darkly. "I don't know Cheri, maybe Ludwig should come finish his studies in Paris with me. At least the bars are still open and there's no 'paragraph 175'."

Beside him, Bella nodded as Toris appeared to only grow more concerned; Feliks slung his guitar back around to the front, "Well ring-a-ding-ding, I've always been keen on Paris." The musician laughed light heartedly, at least partially breaking the tension.

While all his friends could laugh, Ludwig was well aware that they all had homes outside Germany to which they could run. He'd been born and raised in Berlin; this was his home.

"I think I vill get some air." The German excused himself from his foreign friends and made his way through the crowd.

He didn't notice the Italian looking up from a group of women as he passed, though his attention was taken by something he overheard as he neared the door.

Ludwig stopped just short of the doorway. The voices of two professors floated toward him from just beside a tall sculpture on a low stand.

"Returning to the Soviet Union?" The older president of the Prussian Academy of Art asked the younger former lecturer of the Bauhaus.

"Nyet, I have a job waiting in New York for me. You will be leaving also, da?"

"Hmm." The other man was noncommittal about moving. "I know I can not stand by and do nothing.

"I heard about the recent decision at your academy."

"Mhmm." The older man took a long drag on his cigar. "My academy."

Stopped beside the door, Ludwig was, to his horror, noticed by the two men. His professor spoke up, drawing him into the conversation. "Beilschmidt, this is Professor Ivan Braginski-

* * *

As the student joined the two professors in conversation, far across the gallery Feliciano was looking his way.

"Interested?" the voice came from beside him. Turning quickly on his heel, the Italian was greeted by the faces of three men.

"Veh..." Feliciano sighed, slightly.

The three soon introduced themselves, Frances taking his new found friend by the arm, a deep chuckle reverberating from his throat "that sigh says 'si'.'"

"Don't worry," Feliks smiled, slipping his arm around Toris's waist, "we're alright." Winking, he went on, "and so is he."

"But, he's only said...maybe one word to me, I've just met him, do you think...I have a chance?"

The Italian was nearly overwhelmed as he heard a resounding affirmative in three languages.

The Frenchman leaned in close. "Entre deux coeurs qui s'aiment, nul besoin de paroles_._ Two hearts in love need no words."

Feliciano felt his smile returning as Toris wrote an address on a piece of paper. Still a little shaky but growing more confident in his liberal surroundings, Toris handed the paper to Feliciano. "Come to this address tonight, we're throwing an opening night party."

"He'll be there." Feliks' grinned widely before pulling Toris away.

Turning toward Francis, Feliciano spoke up brightly, "So you know him well? Is he the partying type?"

Francis laughed as answer as across the room Ludwig was being his usual self, decidedly serious.

* * *

"I do _not_ belong to the national socialist party." Hearing himself, Ludwig realized he sounded more combative than he'd intended.

This had clearly been noticed. "Apologies," The Russian, only some five or so years his senior adjusted his scarf with a small smile. "I meant no offense." Imperceptibly, Ivan rubbed eyes which suddenly appeared a bit exhausted. "Good to know this; many of your age seem to be leaning to the right, and, well," small smile in place, he continued looking the tall blonde up and down, "they would be glad to have you."

Ludwig thrust his hands into his pockets, still on the defensive. "Never." Feeling his finger slipping through the hole in his pocket, the young artist continued, "und no matter vhat they say they cannot change the economy overnight. The 'bread und vork' promise is complete propaganda."

Unaware of his professor's gaze, Ludwig removed his hands from his pockets to shake Braginski's hand as the Russian nodded his agreement, and spotting someone outside, quickly bid them both goodnight.

"I am glad to hear you have a level head Ludwig." Herr Liebermann gestured out the window, "Braginski is correct; I vould be surprised if you told me you had not been approached by fellow students seduced by this fever of nationalism." Fixing his eyes on his pupil, the president of the prestigious art academy continued, his voice growing more agitated with each word. "These are tense times we're living in, Ludwig. I think it will get vorse before it gets better."

Ludwig followed the other man's eyes across the street to the two men passing by; there was no knowing how many times they'd walked past the gallery, but Ludwig knew this wasn't the first.

"Gestapo." Only a few weeks into their creation the new secret police had already begun terrorizing the public.

The student's assertion was followed by a nod from his professor and very candid words. "I cannot eat as much as I vould like to vomit."

Turning from the window, Ludwig's question came out far bolder than he'd intended, in fact, he hadn't intended to ask at all, not wanting to pry into the other man's life. "Herr Liebermann, is it true you're going to resign?"

Immediately his eyes found the floor. "I'm sorry sir, it's not my place-"

But their conversation had clearly won him respect, as the older man sighed deeply. "Ja, Ludwig, it is true. I vill leave vith dignity rather than be forced from my job under the Berufsbeamtengesetz."

"Vill you leave Germany?" Ludwig looked up again, emboldened by the honest answer. He couldn't help wondering what he should do himself.

"I don't know." His professor looked out the window again; the gestapo were passing once more, this time in the other direction. "I don't vant to give in that easily, do you?"

"nein..."

Ludwig's hesitation was not lost on the other man who now took his arm in fatherly grip. "Stick to your principles Ludwig; do not give in to fear." Herr Liebermann smiled, a bit wryly. "und besides, for the time being, art is not entirely illegal, und from your appearance, I vould say you have little to personally fear right now, unless of course you're a communist or a homosexual."

Placing his hat on his head, the professor made for the door. "Just keep your head down und your eyes open; trust your instincts."

As he watched the older man, now in his mid eighties stroll confidently to his car and drive away, Ludwig's mind was full of the words he'd said.

There was afterall something the professor didn't know about him; he wasn't exactly what the nazi party wanted. He wouldn't be settling down with a perfect aryan woman and fathering perfect aryan children.

His mind in turmoil, Ludwig turned from the glass front door and made his way instead toward the back of the gallery and the waiting patio outside where patrons and artists mingled. A breathe of the cool night air was much needed, but he'd get no peace from standing out front.

He'd done his part, standing near his artworks long enough in order to take questions and what not, now Ludwig made haste to the back door, pulling his coat on, breathing easier with each step he took.

Once outside, he leaned against the brick wall, hands burrowing into the pockets of his jacket.

Looking upwards at the moon as he contemplated his current situation, Ludwig was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice as another man approached and stood beside him on the wall.

Feliciano spoke and Ludwig jumped.

"Hello again!" The German had been taken by surprise and thus missed the waver in the Italian's voice. "I was invited to a party tonight...but I don't know where the address is."

"Ah," Ludwig composed himself, "Vhat is the address? I can give you directions."

Feliciano gave him the paper, leaning in as he did so. "This is my first time in Berlin."

"Oh, ja?" Ludwig stared at the address, a rosy flush tinging his face pink as his heartbeat began to race again. "I vas also invited to this party, I know the man whose place this is." Of course he hadn't actually decided if he was going or not yet...

Feliciano's face brightened as much as Ludwig's burned. The Italian bounced on his feet energetically. "Oh good! We can go together - I'd rather walk with a local than by myself!"

It was as though his heart drummed furiously in his ears. Ludwig fought to regain control of himself as he pocketed Toris' address. "Ja, alright. It can be dangerous to walk around the city at night."

"Grazie mille!" The Italian's voice was melodic, and Ludwig wondered, his eyes widening slightly, if it was his imagination, or if Feliciano was leaning in a bit more than necessary.

"So Ludwig, who's your favorite artist of all time?" Feliciano was certainly leaning in more than necessary now as he leaned back against the wall, his shoulder pressing into Ludwig's arm.

* * *

_Ah, Feli knows how to get a man talking - that's a tough question. ^_~_

_We'll see how Ludwig answers when we come back with chapter 2, as well as what transpires at that party!  
_

_~to readers of my other fics, I am working on them now, have to finally figure out my ch 21 order for It's Just Business (I've changed it so many times!) and get what I've got to my beta, (you know who you are, and thanks for being such a patient sweetie!) and finalize the scene in Potato Gnocchi and that'll be up super soon! Tonight if I weren't so tired already.  
_

_May your holidays be the very happiest dear readers! _

_Bitte, bitte, review?  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_My dearest readers, those who follow me on tumblr will know I promised this out about a week ago or so, and honestly, I DID have it written, but life has been so incredibly busy and just a it crazy, I really just now got around to posting it up, I do thank you all for being so wonderful and patient! To readers of my other fics: I work on these smaller chapter updates in between IJB scenes in those larger will ikely be updated in early July. Moving and starting a new job makes things a wee bit difficult. Black Forest will be up tomorrow. I have a friend coming over in about 10 minutes, or it would be up today. :)  
_

_I'll be replying to reviews, messages, and etc just as soon as possible!_

_A special GRAZIE MILLE to my dear friend SoledaDeMisPesares for reading over this and other stories as I write them, and helping so wonderfully anytime I need some advice on Italian._

ART ALSO SCREAMS CHAPTER 2

Flustered, by both the impossible question and the welcome but unexpected touch, Ludwig stammered, looking anywhere but into Feliciano's cheerfully expectant gaze. "Er..I, ah, well I can't say just one… of course I am influenced by the modern artists, Kirchner, Bleyl, Nolde, Klee, Mueller, and others," He shrugged, heart racing, he forced himself to affect an academic air while turning slightly in toward Feliciano, carefully raising the arm the other man had been leaning against as he did so. Ludwig braced his elbow and forearm on the brick wall as he settled into his new position, hoping the handsome brunette hadn't noticed his attempt to simultaneously get closer and not meet his eyes. It was a test Ludwig had strategized as soon as Feliciano first leaned his shoulder into his arm – to gage the other man's intention.

"but of course, my academic art is traditional," Ludwig continued, staring upward to the night sky, hoping against hope that his voice wasn't wavering as he got the answer to his unspoken question, Feliciano moved closer beneath Ludwig's raised arm. "But I…am not content to simply represent the world." The German forced himself to look down and into those eyes he found so mesmerizing. Gulping down the lump that had risen in his throat, he was intent to impress.

"The camera does that…I vant to be more than a camera." Slipping from the wall, his arm lowered, now an inch from draping the other's shoulders. "I try to do more, even in my traditional art; the movement of light and shadow can be used, as the film makers do, to cause the viewer to feel…" Words failing him, Ludwig was distracted by Feliciano's agreeing nod as he moved ever closer.

"But ah…vhat about you, F-Feliciano?" The tall blonde forced a smile through his anxiety, pleasant anxiety though it may be. "Who is your favorite artist of all time?"

The slender Italian artist smiled wide, his laugh light and kindhearted, "An impossible question, I know," he winked "I just wanted to know more about your personality. I'd love to see more of your work, Ludwig! As for me," Feliciano was also testing Ludwig, silently seeing if he really did stand a chance as the other man's friends had said. "...If I could draw you sometime, you could guess my influence…"

Ludwig's pulse only sped, he was powerless to stop the rosy flush from crossing his face. Completely caught off guard, he tripped over his tongue, "If you vant.." The German was spared from completing his sentence by the gallery manager who called out from inside, informing artists and patrons alike that the gallery was closing for the evening. It was time for them all to find their nightly destinations.

The thought had occurred to the Italian standing so close as well. Feliciano was, in truth, quite nervous. He'd had dalliances before sure, in fact he felt pretty adept at flirtation, but he wasn't blind to the danger around every corner, to the oppressive atmosphere all over Ludwig's city. On one hand, he had to be careful, on the other he'd been drawn to the other man from the moment he laid eyes on him, and what was more, what stirred his actions now, was that it seemed the tall, fit, handsome man felt the same.

They'd known eachother for less than an hour, but there was something about him, about this Ludwig Beilschmidt, that Feliciano instantly trusted and was intrigued by. These thoughts had raced through his mind in only the space of a few breaths. As Ludwig struggled to speak, Feliciano acted.

"Don't we have a party to go to?" The shorter man bounced on the balls of his feet, and grabbed Ludwig's hand, pulling him toward the alley behind the gallery that led to the street.

His feet followed Feliciano's pull into the alleyway just as the Gallery lights went black and people poured out both doors on their way home.

"Vhat about your friend, Frau Hedevary?" Ludwig asked, still a bit disoriented at how fast things were happening, his blood racing, the warmth from where Feliciano so naturally held his hand spreading throughout his body.

"Oh don't worry about that! She's busy until tomorrow anyway. I told her I was going to a party," Caramel eyes glittered in the light of the streetlamp as the two spilled out onto the main thoroughfare with the rest of the dispersing crowd. Feliciano went on, his gaze holding Ludwig's, "I told her I'd be safe; that I wouldn't be alone."

At that moment, a car pulled out from beside the road and four very familiar faces smiled at them as they speed by, "à bientôt!" Francis' voice carried behind as the car disappeared.

Ludwig stared after the brake lights for a while before finally realizing he had to move.

In a split second decision, he conjured up Berlin's streets in his mind, possible routes to Feliks' apartment stood out on the map. Neither darkened alleys nor well lit streets would be the best choice. The U-bahn was faster, but no safer. Deciding on the more round-about way through the quieter residential areas, Ludwig took the lead and instantly dropped Feliciano's hand. "This way." He started off along a side street. Ludwig felt as though his heart could be seen outside, like a giant sign proclaiming him to be "deviant". Maybe he was paranoid, the thought ran through his mind along with what Professor Braginski had said. True, he didn't stand out; he could maneuver through a crowd just fine and hadn't feared when he left the house that morning, no more than usual anyway. It was something about Feliciano's presence. Having the other man near made him feel as though under a spotlight, as though he was unable to keep his composure.

His thoughts in circles, Ludwig mentally shook himself from the introspection. _Ludwig, get yourself together! _He chastised himself for dwelling on his worries and realized that minutes had gone by since they'd left the gallery. _How long has it been since I dropped Feliciano's hand? I didn't even say anything! _His stomach turned as he stopped and looked to the man walking silently beside him.

"Feliciano, I…" Ludwig left the sentence hanging as a black car drove slowly by.

To Ludwig's surprise, the cheerful, bubbly man beside him looked suddenly serious. "We have to be careful, I know." Feliciano rocked backward on the heels of his feet once, hands firmly planted in his pockets.

"Ja…of course, you know." Ludwig's smile came easily in relief. In the moment that passed, their eyes meeting as the two men stood on the silent sidewalk, each knew they felt the same attraction for the other, without a doubt, and each recognized in the other's eyes, the look of someone who'd been thirsty for freedom, for understanding, and acceptance.

Of course he knew; Feliciano would have had no easier time at home than had Ludwig. The realization, while not a happy one, did bring some relief to Ludwig's heart; he could trust his lack of public affection wouldn't be misunderstood as lack of attraction. Feliciano wouldn't expect him to be as open as the man to whose apartment they were headed. He understood him.

As they walked, they grew to know more about one another. Each had an older brother, and though Feliciano had an aged Grandfather, he was rarely able to visit, so like Ludwig, Feliciano's brother was practically his only family. Each was a year from finishing university, indeed they were only a year apart in age. They spoke mainly of light-hearted topics like favorite foods, colors, hobbies, and childhood past-times and dreams.

When at last they arrived, and climbed the stairs to Feliks' studio apartment on the 5th story of an old narrow building, one never would have guessed the two had only known eachother for a little over an hour. The atmosphere of the party poured out into the air as though a cloud, and Ludwig felt himself relax, hand finding its way to Feliciano's arm, his fingers trailing down until they found the other's and intertwined.

Just as they reached the door, it opened and out stepped Vash, leading his sister. "Your brother…" The sculptor looked his friend in the eye and shook his head before leading the petite blonde down the steps past them.

Hand still clasping Feliciano's, Ludwig entered the door Vash had just excited and it didn't take him long to survey the room, find his brother and realize what offensive thing he'd done now.

The room was hopping. Swing music played from the gramophone in the corner, the small apartment was crammed full of artists, musicians, poets and hangers-on. Couples danced wildly in the cleared living room, the sofa having been pushed up against the wall. A random friend of someone's bumped into Feliciano as he and Ludwig entered the room. Brandishing a little booklet, the intoxicated fellow grinned wide, "Sorry about that old boy!" The Brit patted Feliciano's shoulder by way of apology and then went on, looking at Ludwig, "Your brother's dead brilliant!" He laughed and introduced himself, "The name's Arthur – recognized you from Gilbert's description; he's been bragging about you – quite the artist!" The shorter blonde man took another swig of his drink as Ludwig exchanged a quick apologetic look with Feliciano.

"Anyway, this is the best bleedin' thing I've ever read!" He laughed again and pushed the handbound booklet into Ludwig's chest and turned, wandering back toward the kitchen where Ludwig recognized Francis had set up an impromptu bar and was mixing drinks as well as he mixed pigments. Rolling his eyes, Ludwig looked back down to the title of the book in his hands.

_The Barmaid's Brawl_

_By_

"Is he trying to be arrested? Oh mein Gott." Ludwig sighed and handed the booklet to Feliciano.

It took only a second for Feliciano to peruse the pages to see it was the definition of tawdry erotic fiction; two barmaids get into a sudsy beer soaked brawl, one thing leads to another…

Feliciano's giggle was lost on Ludwig however, who had spotted his brother, surrounded by admirers on the sofa across from dancing couples in the middle of the room.

Pushing past Toris, Feliks, and about a half dozen other couples, Ludwig made a direct route to his devil-may-care brother. Feliciano followed quick behind him, making the apologies Ludwig had clearly not thought necessary to the dancers he interrupted.

Catching up to his date, Feliciano soon found the book taken from his hands as Ludwig shook it in front of the grinning author. "You've been forbidden to write anymore." The taller brother hissed, "and yet you continue to self-publish! Und vhat is that I see on the cover? Your name in capital letters!" The book was quickly back in Gilbert's possession, having been thrown in his face. "All the care I take, und this, this is vhat you do?!" Seething, Ludwig's growling whisper at least wiped the smile from Gilbert's face. "You vant to keep printing these und passing them around town for ein Groschen? Gut…sehr gut…und ich kann gar nicht halten die Hand eines Mannes auf der Straße!"

Feliciano saw a myriad of emotions cross the crimson eyed man's face as he began to stand.

"You think your paintings vill not be restricted next, bruder?" Gilbert made to stand; the women and men that had crowded around him moving back.

"I know; I know they call us degenerate, deviant, ill in the mind, corrupting all with our unnatural art!" Ludwig took a step closer to his brother as Gilbert stood. "But I'd at least use a psuedonym, and keep my paintings secret until this madness ends!"

"You haven't been 'questioned' yet – believe me Ludwig you'll not be so patient then." Gilbert retorted, "I'm telling you, we'll lose more freedoms before we gain them back, and if I'm to be banned, then by Gott, I'll write even more 'immoral' stories than these Scheißwichsern can handle!"

Watching the two brothers, Feliciano was aware, even if Ludwig and Gilbert were not, that all nearby had stopped their chatting, drinking, or dancing. Thinking quick, he stepped forward, putting himself between the two. Feliciano put all the charm he could into a smile, which he turned to Ludwig, "Hey bellissimo," The absence of chatter or feet on the wood floor made Mitja Nikisch's music all the louder. "how about a dance?"

Close to the gramaphone, Feliks grabbed Toris' hand again and others followed suit as Ludwig's face, red with anger, first blanched to white and then flushed pink again as horror set in at the awful impression he must be making. He hadn't offered Feliciano a drink, hadn't introduced him to anyone, he'd just gotten into a yelling match with his brother as soon as they walked in.

The lyrics reaching his ears didn't help Ludwig lose the embarrassed blush either, and all he could do was nod in agreement and mumble,"Ja, ok..." and allow Feliciano to pull him away to the dance floor.

~"Ich kann, Ich vill,

Ich kann, Ich vill, Ich soll,

mit dir von Liebe sprechen"~

Both men's hands went to the other's waist. Feliciano laughed as Ludwig blushed even further, "It's ok, you lead;" The brunette let go of the blonde's waist and took his hand.

Gilbert sat back down, "You can't fight who you are, Ludwig!" He called across the room, then turned to the wild haired Dane who flopped down on the sofa beside him, drink in hand. Mathias' comment was accompanied by a wink, "'Picked a looker, though, didn't he?"

The pale author laughed and nodded his agreement.

Of course Ludwig had heard none of this, as his hand found Feliciano's waist each time he came forward and reluctantly let it go each time he moved away, their other hands held together as their bodies moved together and apart in time with the music.

Ludwig's heart felt lighter, his stomach less in knots; which each step his smile came more easily. The slender Italian spun in, his eyes held on Ludwig's blue and then spun out, hips swaying in time with the music.

Ludwig felt sure he'd die from the thudding heart behind his ribs, gaze following the sway of the other man's hips, then meeting his eyes again as he pulled him back closer.

How had he been so lucky? Ludwig wondered what he'd done so right that fate had seen fit to send this man into the gallery, and considered it the height of luck he was with him now, dancing at a party he originally hadn't intended to attend.

At the last note of the song, Feliciano spun back into Ludwig's arms, the taller man dipped him low. Eyes closed, Feliciano leaned back into Ludwig's arm around his waist, thier hips meeting.

The desire to bring their lips together was nearly overpowering. Ludwig looked down to the other's slightly parted mouth and closed eyes. The handsome brunette seemed to want the same thing, Ludwig hoped he was correct as he brought Feliciano up slightly, and leaned in himself. He was barely an inch from satisfying his desirous heart when a loud knock at the door made him jump, nearly dropping Feliciano from his hold.

Eyes flying open, Feliciano scrambled to his feet, and taking the hand he still held, he pulled Ludwig from the room. The two men found themselves making a fast exit down a hall and out the door to a balcony overlooking the neighborhood. The weren't alone, a blonde woman in a sillhuette-hugging black dress moved from where she'd been leaning on the railing.

"Shh." Bella took the cigarette from her lips and pressed a finger to them as she leaned out into the hall.

A loud, annoyed voice came from where Feliks had opened his door; a neighbor threatening to call the police if they didn't keep it down. The woman looked back toward the two men sharing the balcony, "A threat is better than police themselves, hm?" She leaned back against the balcony railing.

"Not much better." Ludwig's grip on Feliciano's hand tightened as he looked over the street below. He watched two other men leaving the apartment building and recognized them as the Finnish poet and his Swedish lover he'd met a few weeks ago. He was surprised they were even still in Berlin. Speaking to Bella, his words were equally meant for Feliciano's ears. "It's the words of neighbors that make men like us disappear."

The German's heart nearly stopped as he felt the Italian move closer. "Veh.." Feliciano sighed, sharing Ludwig's view of the city. "I don't want to live life in fear Ludwig."

He dropped the troubled German's hand and moved beneath Ludwig's arm, his own arm reaching under the taller man's coat to his back, Feliciano continued. "And so I won't." He went on in whispers as another man joined Bella on the balcony. "I know we've only just met, but I want to know you more Ludwig; and," he noticed the rosy tinge to the other's complexion again with pleasure, "I trust you."

Neither noticed Bella as she took an offered joint from her older brother and left the balcony with a puff of sweet smelling smoke.

Ludwig's attention was firmly held in Feliciano's grasp. He sighed and turned toward the shorter man. The slender brunette's hands were now both around his waist, warm against the cotton of his shirt. Silently commanding his own hands to still from the nerves he felt coarsing throughout his body, Ludwig mirrored Feliciano's stance. Once his hands met the other's hips, it was as if they were dancing again; Ludwig felt his anxiety melt. Feliciano was right, they'd only just met, but he wanted more, far more than one night with the handsome Italian in his arms.

"Feliciano, you chose the worst timing for a summer in Germany." Blue eyes pierced into caramel. Ludwig wanted nothing more than to go through with the kiss he'd begun on the dance floor. Tormented, logic told him he was mad to even consider dating at a time like this, but his heart raced with the rebellious thought that he had to live; he had to really live.

Bringing one hand up to rest on Ludwig's broad chest, Feliciano's smile betrayed weariness. "It's not easy in Italy either." Eyes closed again as his smile turned radiant. "And, how else could I have met you?"

Clearing his throat, Ludwig's cautious logic was silenced in favor of a more heated emotion. He pulled Feliciano closer by the hips, one realization in his mind. When life was uncertain anyway, there was no time like the present. "I am very glad I met you as vell, Feliciano."

Just then a pale hand curled around the balcony door, Gilbert's face poked out from the hallway. "Hahaha, waging your own resistance afterall, Brüderchen?"

"Augh, Gilbert..." Ludwig took a step back, his ears beginning to heat up. "Vhat to you vant?"

The author joined the two artists on the balcony. "Only to tell you lovebirds," White eyebrows wiggled suggestively above crimson eyes, "The party is moving, somewhere more secure." Feliks stopped as he walked by the balcony. "Tak," leaning out, he continued "Sorry, this neighborhood is less friendly every day – if you, like, want a ride, I'm driving in 5 minutes."

The blonde turned a smile toward the couple on the balcony, "Ludwig, I totally never would've expected you'd be like, such a good dancer."

Gilbert turned to follow Feliks, winking once over his shoulder, "Pleasure to meet you…" He waited at the door for the name of his brother's date.

"Feliciano Vargas." His reply cheerful, Feliciano grinned across to Ludwig's brother, happy to see the earlier argument didn't seem to be resuming. Gilbert met his cheer with a lopsided grin and words meant for his brother.

"Good choice Ludwig, er ist liebenswert."

Chuckling loudly, Gilbert left his younger brother with his internal struggle. Twice he'd been interrupted just before he could satisfy the urge to kiss the man in his arms. Ludwig brought one hand from Feliciano's hip and up to his face, willing the blush to leave his cheeks, for his racing heart to calm. "Sorry about mein bruder Feliciano…und, for my behavior earlier…" Not meeting the other man's eyes, Ludwig dropped his hand to his side. "I truly am proud of Gilbert's bravery, even if his books are…tasteless. I only wish he would use a pseudonym."

Feliciano moved closer, now against Ludwig's chest, nearly fully enveloped in the other man's open coat. He thought about his own brother. "I understand Ludwig, I worry about my brother too; he's been an active partisan for the past three years, underground...sometimes I don't hear for him for months at a time." Feliciano looked up, eyes fully open, "He told me to stay at university for now, but I worry about him all the time." For a moment sorrow covered him, and the sense of hoplessness pervading Ludwig's city felt oppressively close. However, Feliciano had said he didn't want to live in fear and therefore wouldn't, with determination, he latched on instead to what Ludwig's older brother had said. Looking up into the eyes that had at last turned his way, Feliciano found it easy to smile, " but let's talk of something else. Do you think I'm 'Liebenswert' too, Ludwig?"

The German looked down into the Italian's eyes gazing up beneath dark lashes. It seemed they shared much more; he'd never met someone he felt could understand him as Feliciano did. Light from the moon above and the city below sparkled across the Italian's face. Heart up in his throat again, Ludwig answered before he was fully conscious of making the decision to speak. "Ja. Ja, natürlich."

"Veh.." Feliciano sighed and leaned his head against Ludwig's chest, his gaze falling to the street below. The city alit sparkled when seen from above, particularly the cinema across the street. Spurred on by Ludwig's hands at his back and strong heart beat in his ear, Feliciano spoke up again. "I noticed you as soon as I walked into the gallery, Ludwig."

Remembering how much a fool he'd been when Feliciano first walked over to him, Ludwig choked on his words, hands moving down the slim back, "I..also noticed you immediatly Feliciano." Gathering himself, Ludwig went on, knowing they had to leave soon. "Do you vant to go to the other party," he gulped down the threatening nerves hoping he had the word right, "mio Tesoro?"

Whatever he'd expected, it hadn't been the way Feliciano looked at him now as he stepped back, and took Ludwig's hand, smiling softly, "No, I don't think so; I'd rather go somewhere we can be alone." The Italian pulled his German beau away from the balcony. "How about a movie instead and then after, maybe you can show me more of your art, at your house?"

…

As the artists bought tickets and acting as no more than friends, entered the cinema for a late showing of 'Ein Leid geht um die Welt' A very different, but no less illegal couple was meeting in the relative privacy of a ritzy hotel room.

"Hot dog, there sure is one good thing about being out of the states." The American poured himself another glass of the vodka his guest had brought along with him. Looking over his glasses, he added, "and the drink's good too, I guess."

"It has been a long time Alfred." The Russian leaned back into the chair, its back against the wall. He had already surveyed the room for any surveillance possible, but still didn't feel quite safe. "Your letter was a surprise, a pleasant surprise." Small smile enigmatic above the scarf, he took the offered refill from the other man. "How long has it been since New York?"

"Too damn long." Alfred leaned forward from where he sat on the edge of the bed. "I've been thinking of how to get you back across the Atlantic ever since."

"Have you?" Violet eyes looked toward the other man. He'd spent many a night since they met at a design exposition in New York City a few years ago thinking about the American as well. Then, Ivan had been showcasing his architecture work and Alfred had only been a young businessman walking by, drawn in by curiosity and the cold New England winter.

"You bet I have." Alfred turned to set his glass down on the side table, breaking eye contact with Ivan for a moment. It had been a short fling they'd had that winter before Ivan took the job at the Bauhaus and went back to Germany where he'd been living off and on for a year. A short fling, but a memorable one. An experience the younger American hadn't wanted to end.

"So you'll take the-" the words died on his tongue as Alfred turned back to face Ivan. The tall, broad Russian had moved from his chair and now stood close, one knee on the edge of the bed, his small smile reflected in sparkling violet eyes. "-job?" Alfred finished, more weakly than he wanted to sound. He hadn't even had a chance to explain anything much about the building project yet. "V-Vanya?"

"What perfect timing, that you find me unemployed, da?" One hand pressed into the mattress as Ivan moved forward, the other up and into Alfred's hair, ruffling through blonde locks on the way to cup the stunned businessman's face, pulling it closer as he lowered his own, eager to see if the other man's kisses tasted the same as they had some years ago.

…..

Sitting in the back of the theatre, Ludwig felt a finger trailing his arm. Glancing to Feliciano beside him in the dark, he dropped his hand between their seats where it was met by the flirtatious Italian who looked both directions and then leaned into the German's arm.

Bottom lip held between his teeth, Ludwig longed to do more than hold the other man's hand. He barely new what was happening on the screen, instead he looked down to the man leaning in against his shoulder, and the charming singular curl that was all the more noticeable from above.

Ludwig surveyed the theatre. No one looked their way; the only official was the ticket master outside. Maybe it was safe. The tall blonde let loose the other's hand and moved the shoulder the slender brunette leaned against; carefully lifting it, by now confident his action would be approved, Ludwig draped his arm around Feliciano's shoulders. His heart only pounded all the more furiously as Feliciano leaned in closer, now against his chest. Only the thin wooden arm rest now separated them. Hand cupping the other man's arm, Ludwig couldn't hold his feeling of contentment, a happy sigh slipping past his lips.

Beneath the arm rest, Feliciano brought a hand up to rest on Ludwig's thigh. "Veh.." he echoed the German's contentment, still not believing how wonderful his night had gone so far. Ludwig's large hand caressed his arm and shoulder as Feliciano leaned as close as possible; he felt his own face heating up as blood rushing through his body, his heart speeding with each touch.

It was the thrill of holding Feliciano, the handsome man with whom he felt such an instant affinity which caused Ludwig's courage, but also the increased adrenaline of keeping out a watchful eye as they broke the law simply by their touch. It was as though Ludwig watched himself from out of his body, caution tossed to the wind. His hand moved up Feliciano's shoulder and up into the smaller man's soft, mahogany colored hair. The curl, so cute, he just had to touch it.

Feliciano shuddered and gasped beside him as Ludwig's fingers found the curl in the dark of the cinema.

"Feli – vhat is it, are you alright?" Having no idea it was he who had caused the reaction, Ludwig wondered if there had been a twist on screen, or if Feliciano had suddenly felt a chill.

The sun shone brightly on screen as the protagonist walked a Venetian street, and as Feliciano shifted and looked up to Ludwig, for a moment his face was illuminated. Caramel eyes overbright as his dilated pupil contracted in the sudden light of the film-sun, Feliciano's response was breathless. "Si, I'm fine, Ludwig…just your fingertips in my hair…it's very sensitive."

"Oh Gott, I'm so sorry!" Ludwig whispered back, pulling his hand away.

"No, Ludwig-" Feliciano caught the hand the confused man was pulling back. "it's good, it's ok…" The Italian shifted in his seat to face the German, "In fact," looking around, Feliciano was happy to see the cinema less than full, with no one stationed at the doors. "I don't think anyone can see us."

It took no more than Feliciano's silent suggestion, leaning over the arm rest between them, bottom lip in a slight pout, one hand still resting on Ludwig's thigh, the other just releasing his wrist to reach instead over one shoulder, to drive any remnants of caution from Ludwig's mind.

Reality fell away from the otherwise stoic and careful man. For all Ludwig cared at this precise moment, there was no one else around them, there was no law forbidding their love, indeed there was no one and nothing but Feliciano.

Part of his brain was still trying to exert control; Ludwig had the thought that he'd look back on his recklessness later and shudder for how much he was gambling, but that logical voice was silenced by the thunder of his heart, the rush of blood in his ears, and the thrill that ran throughout his body as he ran his hands up through Feliciano's hair again. Ludwig felt the hand on his thigh move inward, and the hand at his shoulder move up to the back of his neck; causing the little hairs there to stand on end as hot pleasure made his neck and face burn again as he lowered his lips to Feliciano's.

Finally, after two previous attempts, Ludwig felt himself melting into Feliciano's soft kiss. Lips parted to grant entrance, tongues met and danced together.

Feliciano sighed lightly into Ludwig's kiss, which was at once careful and passionate. His sigh was echoed by a low "Mmm" as one hand in his hair moved down his neck and back to find its way into his back pocket. Heart jumping in his chest, Feliciano's grip tightened on Ludwig's thigh as he pressed himself closer, cursing the arm rest between them.

The two men expressed their affections with abandon in the dark of the cinema, the movie completely forgotten. They both knew they only had until the film's end when the lights would come back on before they would have to act as though there was nothing but friendship between them.

But for now, for these few precious minutes they felt free; Ricardo, the silver screen protagonist may not have found romance that night, but far in the back of the audience, Ludwig and Feliciano each felt luckier by far.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading and for being such lovely, patient sweethearts!

NOTES:

à bientôt! - Fr. "See you soon"

ein Groschen = currency, the common name for a 12 Pfennig coin at the time.

Gut…sehr gut…und ich kann gar nicht halten die Hand eines Mannes auf der Straße!"

= "Good, very good, and I can't even hold the hand of a man on the street!"

Scheißwichsern = equivelant, (not translation) to "fucking wankers" Seriously, excellent curse word.

~"Ich kann, Ich vill, Ich kann, Ich vill, Ich soll, mit dir von Liebe sprechen"~

= first verse of this song you can listen to here: www . youtube watch ? feature = player _ embedded &v= j78g4 _ iufQE

Full lyrics translated to English as BEST AS I CAN:

Can I? I want,

Can I? I want; Should I?

Speak of love with you?

Can I? I want;

Can I? I want; Should I?

That's not a crime…

I'm not (blue?) and I'm no (?)

The only thing I know is that it's (wonderful!)?

Can I? I want,

Can I? I want; Should I?

Speak of love with you?

-German speaking readers, you can give me pointers here if I've gotten it wrong! Deutsche ist nicht mein Muttersprache… sichtlich.

Brüderchen = Baby brother

Liebenswert = lovable

mio Tesoro = It. my treasure

Bellissimo = It. handsome

Ein Leid geht um die Welt' = a movie that premiered in early May 1933 in Germany. You can read all about it here: www . imdb title / tt0024254/


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